Death Drops

by Chrystle Fiedler

  “No problem, no problem,” he said, clearly hyper from the caffeine. He hooked his thumb in Jackson’s direction. “What’s he doing here?”

  Jackson pushed past him. “I’ve got to get going. I’m sure you’ll be safe with Simon,” he said, a bemused expression on his face. “We’ll talk in the a.m. I’ve got an early morning appointment with Hector and Allie. Night.”

  After Jackson left, Simon processed this development. Willow with another man. “So he’s why you don’t want to get back together?”

  “We’re working on the case,” I said. “He’s helping me figure out who killed Aunt Claire and who stole her formula.”

  “I’ll bet,” Simon said, thinking about this. “He’s definitely into you. That’s just an excuse to hang around.”

  “Claire was important to him,” I said. “That’s why he’s helping me.”

  Simon snorted. “Whatever.”

  I started to turn off the lights in the front of the store. Maybe he would take the hint. “Simon, it’s late. I want to go to bed.”

  He took a sip of his coffee and eyed me over the lid. “Sure you want to sleep alone?”

  Actually, I would have liked it if Jackson had slept over, but I kept that idea to myself. For now. “I’m sure.”

  Okay, so sleeping alone was a lot less fun than sleeping with Jackson would have been. Well, I wasn’t exactly alone, since I had Qigong, Ginger, and Ginkgo to keep me company. For some reason, though, I overslept, and the next morning, by the time I’d done a few sun salutations, a seated meditation, showered, dressed, and opened the door to head downstairs, Jackson had stepped onto the third-floor landing and was headed for Allie’s treatment room.

  “Mornin’, McQuade.”

  “Mornin’, Spade. Here for your next session?”

  He nodded. “Allie is going to give me a hot stone treatment, and then Hector will give me a tune-up. He’s got some exercises I can do at home, too.”

  Allie stepped out of her room, holding a lavender candle. She lit it with a match and smiled at Jackson. “You are going to love this treatment. It’s just heaven. It just melts away stress, tension, and muscle stiffness.”

  “What exactly are you going to do to me?” Jackson arched an eyebrow.

  “I’m going to place smooth, water-heated stones at key points on your back to relax your muscles and tissues, which will release toxins and improve your circulation. After that, I’ll give you a full body massage.” Her cell phone rang inside her room and she went to answer it. “Come in when you’re ready.”

  “I’ll be right there, Allie, thanks.” He pulled me aside. “Have you given any thought to what I said about leaving this investigation to the cops?”

  “Nothing to think about,” I said. “I’m in this thing and I’m hoping you are, too. But you’re under no obligation. The sessions are free no matter what. We agreed.”

  “Uh-huh.” He rubbed his chin. “You mean if I don’t help you, you’re going to do it anyway?”

  “You bet.”

  Jackson blew out a sigh. “I was afraid of that.”

  Allie came back out and pointed to her watch. “We’d better get started. It’s nine and I just booked an appointment at ten. Word must be getting around about our services. Merrily has our cards by the counter.”

  “And when you Facebook and tweet and get LinkedIn, you’ll have even more,” I said, glad things were moving in a positive direction despite recent events. People either didn’t know or didn’t care about what had happened here, which might have a lot to do with an interview that Koren had given to Newsday. Not that I was going to thank him.

  “I think Claire advertised in the Suffolk Times,” Jackson said. “Maybe they’ll do a story on you. Maybe if you focus on the business rather than you-know, you’d feel better.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said pointedly, determined to find Aunt Claire’s killer, even at the expense of a promising budding romance.

  Merrily ran up the steps, holding an energy drink and wired as usual. “We need to get the bread, and since the van is out, can Stephen borrow your car?”

  I fished out the keys and gave them to her. “Can you call the mechanic and have him come over, too?”

  “On it.” She spun on her heel and ran back down the stairs.

  “She’s hopped up on caffeine. Just like your friend Simon last night. Kind of late for him to be stopping by, wasn’t it?” He folded his arms in front of his chest and appraised me.

  “Simon acts on impulse. He doesn’t bother with things like checking the time. It’s part of the reason we are no longer together.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Oh, so you two used to be involved?”

  “Yes, but not anymore.”

  He uncrossed him arms and took a step toward me. “So you’re back on the market?”

  Before I could answer, Hector came out of the apartment opposite and gave Jackson a once-over. “Feel any better?”

  Jackson kneaded his lower back and looked at me. “Yes. And I’m ready for more.”

  At eleven o’clock, Hector opened his door and invited me in. “We’re just about done.” Jackson lay on the table.

  “How do you feel?” I asked him.

  “More opened up. Like the energy is flowing. Does that make sense?”

  “Yes, indeed,” Hector said. “Okay, now bend your knees to your chest.” Jackson did so. “Place your fingertips in the center of the crease behind each of your knees.” Jackson managed to do this, too. “Okay, now holding on to the points, gently rock your legs back and forth.”

  Jackson looked at Hector skeptically. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Not at all. Try doing it for just one minute.”

  Jackson, looking ever more the pretzel, rocked back and forth a few times on the table. “Good,” Hector said. “Good. Now let your feet rest flat on the table with your knees bent and relax.”

  Jackson did as he said. “I do feel like some tension is being released.”

  “If you do this three times a day, you will notice a difference within a week,” he instructed, helped Jackson sit up. Just then we heard a zinging noise, and the glass in the window next to the table shattered. Jackson went down.

  chapter twenty-three

  Dear Dr. McQuade,

  My grandfather has heart disease, and I told him that there were lots of foods and supplements that can help your heart. He doesn’t believe me. What can I tell him specifically to convince him to go natural?

  Signed,

  I Heart My Grandpa

  Dear I Heart My Grandpa,

  It’s great that you want to help your grandfather feel better and be healthier. First, it’s important that he follow the American Heart Association’s guidelines for eating healthy. This means eating a varied, balanced diet with lots of fruits and veggies and fiber, 25 to 30 grams a day for heart health. It’s also important to achieve and maintain a healthy weight and keep blood pressure and cholesterol at healthy levels. One of the easiest ways to reduce cholesterol is by eating foods that are fortified with plant sterols, which help to block its absorption. You’ll find plant sterols in everything from OJ to margarine or in a supplement. Co-enzyme Q10 is another important nutrient that supports heart and blood vessel function. Take 100 to 300 milligrams a day. Whatever you try, though, be sure to check with his doctor first.

  Signed,

  Dr. Willow McQuade

  Jackson dropped to the floor, rolled onto his back, and groaned. Blood began to seep through the shoulder of his white T-shirt. His eyes fluttered closed and then opened again, but he had the presence of mind to say to Hector and me, “Get down!”

  I did as he said, but then reached up to grab a jade-green hand towel from the table and pressed it into the wound. Hector crawled across to his desk, grabbed his cell, and called 911. Allie and her ten o’clock client, Sammy Braff, the woman who I believed had hypothyroidism, ran in.

  “What’s going on?” Allie said, clearly in a panic.

&
nbsp; “For God’s sake, get down and stay down, everyone,” Jackson yelled.

  The two of them hit the floor and crawled over to us. “Jackson’s been shot!” I said. Sammy Braff started to cry. Instead of bawling myself, I kept my focus on Jackson and the situation at hand. Was the shooter still out there? Would the cops get here in time?

  Jackson didn’t wait to find out. Grabbing the towel from me, he kept it pressed into the wound as he crawled over to the window, inched his way up, and then looked out into the backyard before dropping down again. “Whoever it was is gone.”

  I crawled over to him. “Where do you think they were?”

  “In the parking lot, beyond those trees. It’s a straight shot into this window.”

  “First me, now you. Someone obviously wants us out of the way.”

  Jackson pressed the towel into the wound and winced, but he managed to give me a smile. “You think?”

  Detectives Koren and Coyle arrived ten minutes later and had plenty of questions for us. But my main focus was Jackson. The paramedics who arrived shortly after the detectives looked at the wound and bandaged it to stop the bleeding. They wanted to put him on a gurney, but Jackson nixed that. Instead, Hector and one of the paramedics helped Jackson take the stairs, while uniformed officers secured the scene. On the way down, we told Koren and Coyle about the events of last night and this morning.

  “Maybe whoever slashed the tires took a shot at you this morning,” Koren said. He flipped through his notebook. “There’s definitely a pattern of escalating violence here.”

  “Definitely,” Coyle said. “Look at what happened at the Vine Bar last night. This case is a hornets’ nest.”

  The more we talked, the madder I got. If they’d taken the threats against me seriously to begin with, maybe none of this would have happened. But I tried to keep my cool for Jackson’s sake.

  One of the paramedics opened the back of the ambulance while his partner helped Jackson in and put him on a gurney; then they slammed the door and took off for the hospital. I headed to my car to follow them there.

  Koren and Coyle walked to the edge of the parking lot and looked into the trees. Koren called to the two police officers with him and told them to establish a perimeter and put up crime scene tape to protect the area until the criminalist got there.

  When they came over to me, Koren said, “So you and Spade knocking boots or what?” and gave me a smarmy look I didn’t like. Coyle laughed into his hand.

  “That is none of your business,” I said as I reached the car and opened the door.

  “Doctor, when it comes to this case, everything is our business,” Koren said, slipping his notebook into his inside pocket. “The sooner you accept that, the better off we’ll all be.”

  I gave them a withering look. “You’re pretty cocky considering that this is all your fault. If you’d found Aunt Claire’s killer, you could have prevented Jackson from being shot. I’m thinking of suing your department for negligence. Tell your chief to be expecting my call.”

  I really didn’t intend to sue, but I did leave a message for the chief of police on my way to the hospital. Koren and Coyle needed to be set straight. Their duty was to protect and serve, but I’d seen little evidence of that so far.

  Jackson was in surgery for more than two hours, and it was late afternoon before the doctor came out to the waiting room to talk to me. The bullet had gone right through but he needed to stay in the hospital for a few days before being released. Within a few weeks, he’d be as good as new.

  When I walked into his hospital room, Jackson was sleeping. With his long eyelashes and scruffy beard, he looked, well, as Allie had said, yum-my. I quietly sat down in the chair by his bed and sent him good vibes while I waited for him to wake up.

  He opened his eyes a few minutes later and smiled. “McQuade, you made it.”

  “You made it,” I said, and smiled back. “That’s the important part. How do you feel?”

  “Like I’ve been shot.” He pushed on a pump connected to an IV bag. “Good pain meds, though. That helps.”

  “I just can’t believe you got shot.”

  He shaped his fingers like a gun and pretended to shoot himself. “Danger is my business, McQuade.”

  “Should I contact anyone to tell them about what happened?”

  He shook his head. “My ex-wife and I don’t talk anymore, and the rest of my family is all at a reunion upstate. I didn’t go because of my back. And I didn’t want to spoil their good time.” He fixed me with a stern look. “I hope this has convinced you to give up the case, Dr. McQuade.”

  I returned his gaze. “Nope. I owe it to Aunt Claire to get to the bottom of this.”

  Jackson whistled. “Oh, boy, I was afraid of that.”

  “Besides, Koren and Coyle are a bunch of asses. I want to prove to them that they’re wrong about me.” I told them about our conversation in the parking lot.

  “I have to agree that there is a high ass factor there.”

  “So,” I said, clapping my hands together. “You’re with me when you get out of here. We’ll get back on the case when you feel better?”

  “I’ll need help,” he said, not answering my question. Instead he gazed out the window, which had a view of the harbor’s twinkling blue water and the pleasure crafts cruising into their berths at the marina next to the hospital. “I’ll get a nurse in to take care of me like last time.”

  “You won’t have to do that,” I said. “Hector, Allie, and I talked, and we want to take care of you. You can stay with us. With Hector in his room. Aunt Claire has a queen-size bed, so Allie and I will bunk together.”

  “Willow, you’re not thinking clearly. This is getting deadly serious. You’ll have to clear out of the store while I’m in here,” he said. “Can’t you stay with Nick?”

  “Not really,” I said. “His place is really small.”

  “Or your mother or sister?”

  I made a face like I smelled a can of tuna fish.

  “Then stay at my place,” he said. “The keys have to be around here somewhere.”

  “I don’t know.”

  He took my hand. “Just stay there until I’m out. I have a first-class alarm system in place, and I’ll request regular foot and car patrols of the store. My neighbor is an ex–NYPD detective. I’ll tell him to keep an eye on all of you.”

  It would be a great relief to feel safe, and I had a responsibility to Allie and Hector and my animals, too. “Okay,” I said. “But when you’re released, I want to get back to the store. I need to find that formula; otherwise this won’t stop. I can take care of you there at the same time.”

  “I don’t want to be any trouble.” He attempted to sit up, but abandoned the idea and lay down again. “On the other hand, it would be a good way for me to keep an eye on you,” he added, smiling at me, and then he reached back to adjust his pillows. As he did, one of them fell on the floor.

  “You’ll be my personal bodyguard,” I replied as I picked up the pillow and rearranged it so he’d be more comfortable. As I did, I leaned close to him and our eyes met. Zing! I felt the electricity rush between us like a power line and swallowed hard.

  He gave me a look loaded with meaning. “Is that all I am to you, McQuade? A bodyguard?”

  “That and more,” I said, feeling all gooey inside again.

  He put his hand gently behind my head and pulled me in for a kiss. Afterward, he smiled and said, “Now that’s what I call first aid.”

  While Jackson was in the hospital, the cats, Qigong, Hector, Allie, and I camped out at his A-frame house in East Marion, a half hour as the gull flies from Greenport. I used the time to have a state-of-the-art alarm system with motion detectors installed in the store and café that I could pay for over time. I also talked to the chief of police, who spoke to Koren and Coyle. He told me that I could expect their cooperation from now on and gave me his cell phone number just in case. The chief also assigned foot and car patrols around Nature’s Way, both on F
ront Street and in back, by the IGA across from the Vine Bar. During the investigation, they’d found one cartridge shell but no gun.

  Even though Koren seemed sincere about turning over a new leaf and taking me seriously, I wasn’t going to give up on my own quest to discover the identity of Claire’s killer. To that end, I’d e-mailed Sue Polumbo three times asking for a meeting. No reply. I’d also gone through every single contact in Aunt Claire’s iPhone, but either they were friends and were shocked to hear about her death or they were business contacts for the store. Nothing they said seemed suspicious.

  I picked Jackson up at the hospital at ten a.m. on the Saturday following the shooting, and Hector and I helped get him up to Hector’s room on the third floor. We took it slow with Jackson, since his back wasn’t in great shape and he had a bullet hole in his shoulder, but when we reached the room, he collapsed, exhausted, on the bed.

  Jackson ran his fingers through his hair. “Damn, I’m so wiped. This is embarrassing. I’m back to square one. I feel like I did after the accident.”

  “Just take it easy, Jackson,” I said. “It’s all about baby steps.”

  “Yes,” Hector said, smiling. “Listen to your doctor.”

  Jackson nodded. “I know. I’m just frustrated. Before the accident I wasn’t used to feeling weak. I thought I’d made some progress but now it’s gone.”

  “I put that warming mat underneath the sheet,” Hector said. “It will help you feel better. In a few days, we’ll start treatments again. I’ll target your back and your immune system so you heal faster. Allie’s massage will stimulate the immune system, too. We’ll have you back to yourself in no time flat.”

  Since the shooting, I was sure we’d have no other clients and that Hector and Allie could give Jackson their full attention. I had no idea how we would build up good will in the community after everything that had happened, but I pushed that thought out of my head for now.

  Jackson gave him a thumbs-up. “Thanks, man.”

  As Hector headed out, Merrily walked in with a strawberry-banana-mango-coconut smoothie I’d ordered for Jackson. It was chock-full of protein, probiotics, and green foods like young barley grasses, chlorella, and spirulina to help build up his immune system and get rid of toxins. Plus it tasted fantastic.